A Song of Elegance

Harold Best once said:

God makes things beautiful from the inside out while we usually make things look good on the outside … The down-deep interior of a redwood or a geode or the DNA molecule or, for that matter, our own body is a song of elegance.

I like that. A “song of elegance.” The remarkable science using DNA for the COVID vaccines has entered into that mysterious song. May you move through today swaying along to the quiet rhythms of God’s song of elegance and be thankful to the countless health workers and dedicated scientists who have shared so fully in this music of hope. Amen.

Your Good Life

Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom (James 3:13b).

Not a bad reminder. The life you have is good. Sometimes it seems really hard; sometimes sad; often stressful. But it is always good. Therefore, may how you live, in spite of whatever else is going on, reflect God’s wisdom in the gentleness of how you share your good life with the world. Amen.

Grateful Intentions

Jeanie Miley once said:

Gratitude flows from the fullness of heart informed by an open mind and appreciative of the minuscule and majestic miracles of life. 

Laughter and tears are both spontaneous events; they come without planning and linger without intent. Gratitude, on the hand, usually requires intention: to pause; to consider; to gaze; to ponder.

Lord, help us this day to be intentional with our gratitude. Prod us with the discipline to consider all the bounty of our lives that you so graciously provide. Make us grateful people O God. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Something Is Happening to You

The Bohemian-Austrian poet Rilke has some words appropriate for any of our days or times that feel hard, but especially for these closing days of Lent:

You mustn’t be frightened

If a sadness

Rises in front of you, 

Larger than any you have ever seen; 

If an anxiety, like light and cloud shadows 

Moves over your hands and everything you do.

You must realize that something is happening to you, 

That life has not forgotten you, 

That it holds you in his hand

And will not let you fall.

May you today be lifted by these thoughts. Whatever your fears, beyond your anxieties, something is happening to you … something good. God is growing you; your life is changing, opening, deepening. May your faith take hold of your heart … and lead you forward. Amen.

The Real Story Behind St. Patrick’s Day

Then Jesus said: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing“ (Luke 23:34).

His given name was Patricius. Born into a wealthy Roman family in Londinium,[1] he was kidnapped by pirates and taken to the dark and distant island the Romans knew as Hibernia. He was sold into slavery, made to work as a shepherd, and kept in isolation. In a foreign land and too young to have really been schooled in learning or faith, he was completely alone and left to his own devices. Except, so the story goes, God guided him one day to begin walking to the east.

After numerous adventures, Patricius, now probably a teenager, arrived at a port city and met a sympathetic trader who eventually returned him to his homeland. His family rejoiced and welcomed him home, only to be newly disconcerted. They heard him speak of strange things—a calling for what he would view as the inspiration for his rescue and something even more radical. He now felt he was being called to return to the land of his enslavement to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ—a gospel of healing, reconciliation, and love.

Important training in reading, writing, and the basics of the Christian faith made up for the education Patricius had never been exposed to as a child. But now he shocked and disappointed his family. Patricius returned to the very land of his slavery and began to preach to the kings and tribal leaders that had persecuted him for so many years when he was a boy.

Today, we know Patricius as St. Patrick, and the dark island of Hibernia we know as Ireland. St. Patrick’s ministry changed the history of a divided, warring land.  His followers became missionaries who carried the message of God to Scotland, Wales, England, and the rest of Europe at the very time when the faith was on the verge of being lost under wave after wave of barbarian invasions from the 400s to the 700s A.D.

Thomas Cahill, in his book How the Irish Saved Civilization, tells this remarkable story of St. Patrick and his ability to hear God’s call with clarity. There were so many perfectly good excuses for not returning to the land that had persecuted him. His family couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t simply stay with them and rejoin the aristocratic life he had been so tragically ripped from. But the power of God’s reconciling hope and the pull of God’s redeeming grace changed Patricius, as it can change us. For those willing to hear God’s sometimes discomforting, sometimes confusing call, to forgive in the face of hatred, to reconcile in the throws of hostility, to trust against the odds in the holy, risky love of God—the rewards can be transformative.

You may need to take a risk this week. God can use you to make a difference. Listen, respond, and live in the hopes and dreams of God for positive change in you and for those around you.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone!

[1] Londinium was the largest city in the Roman province of Britannia, controlled by Rome from 43 AD to 410 AD. London, England is the modern descendant of this ancient city.

Pandemic Plans: Keep on Coping

We have been battling COVID-19 for a year. 2020 already stands unique in the annals of our memories. And 2021 seems to continue the trend. Hospitals, schools, universities, churches, stores, restaurants … no destination or gathering place has been immune to the dangerous vagaries of this microscopic virus. Through fits and starts, small successes and significant failures, we have learned to cope. We continue to experiment with ideas and best practices. Yet all the while, we wander through a minefield of potential dangers that could rob us of a friend or family member.

An increasing percentage of us know someone who got infected, who was sick or who has died. Emotionally, this virus has been almost as virulent. Coping mechanisms found adequate for some fail spectacularly for others. Isolation, loneliness, parents overwhelmed, healthcare workers long past endurance, and so many of the rest of us unsure what new problem will put us over the edge.

In my sermons each week, I find myself inevitably saying: “These are difficult days.” Or “Life is hard.” Or “We are exhausted.” Seminary never trained us to cope with a pandemic, much less a bizarre confluence of public health, macro-economic, racial justice and socio-emotional crises. But I’ve been so thankful for so many of you, step by step, day by day creatively helping others of us rise up from our weariness.

During this hard year, while social distancing and mask wearing, you have lifted the spirits of those around you. And while you have helped one another, you have also helped me. I continue to be inspired by your patient, intentional loving.

Thankfully, too, the Bible tells the truth. Consistently, our scriptures recall spiritual ancestors who have preceded us. We are not the first, nor will we be the last to endure unpredictable times. Repeatedly throughout the Bible, we hear the words: “Fear not, I am with you …” and “Do not be afraid.” And we remember the context: dark days of desperation culminating in a crucifixion that shattered every hope.

This time of Lent reminds us of good company.  Preceded by ordinary people coping with extraordinary grace, we continue to be surrounded by heroes. Brave, conscientious helpers who maintain our food supply, fill our health care needs, teach our children, care for our Senior Adults, repair our vehicles, farm our fields, stock our groceries and serve our meals. This list is almost endless. Often at risk themselves, they allow our lives to have at least some modicum of the ordinary.

Through these everyday workers and friends we see through a mirror darkly, but catch occasional shining glimpses of wonder. Ordinary people still operating with courage, and sometimes even humor.

Today it is them; tomorrow it might be you. For me, it already is; and you already are. Thank you. Bless you. And keep up the good work through these strange pandemic days. Easter is coming.

PRAY WITH ME:

Help us during this month of March, O God.  Give us the wisdom to live with present hope and eternal expectation. May we embrace the wonder of our daily experiences, our everyday relationships, our casual encounters, unexpected flavors, surprising aromas or ordinary sights.  Awaken us to the reality of your presence in all these and more.  And this month leading us to Easter, Lord, make us keenly aware of our participation in your abundant life, now – and forever. Amen.

With much love, deep gratitude, and expectant hope,

David

Questions of Dying

Questions arise about death for those who are honest. Dying is not for the faint of heart; and questions are there, when we are honest, a genuine curiosity about this death we know so little of. Questions like “what will it be like?” and “will I miss my wife and daughter and friends?”

When asked, I confessed I didn’t know for sure, but only hoped and trusted that all would be as good as we can imagine. Surely the love we share here won’t end with death but only continue in some other shape and form. I want to believe what I have always preached, that we are participants in God’s love that comes from eternity and connects us to eternity. That’s what Easter tells us in no uncertain terms. But who of us can really say for sure about the details?

D.H. Lawrence tells the truth in “All Soul’s Day:”

Be careful, then, and be gentle about death. 

For it is hard to die, it is difficult to go through the door, even when it opens …

We can speak of these things with courage when they happen to others. But we must be honest and careful. For it is hard to die; and it is hard to lose those we love who die. So let us be gentle, even with one another … in life … and in death.

May your day be beautiful and light, even while considering these deeper things …

Lenten Lessons for Easter

Romans 4:1-25

We have good news; and we have bad news. Let’s begin with the bad news: We’ve got problems. The Bible is very clear on this point and declares: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

Abraham Needs God

Since the Bible uses the word “sin,” let’s focus on that for a moment. In this fourth chapter of Romans, Paul reminds us of Abraham. As the patriarch of our spiritual heritage, he serves as an example of someone who didn’t earn his righteousness. He couldn’t. He had no idea what he was doing. He had no experience with the kind of faith God was evoking in him. Often, even when he followed God’s instructions, he continued to cause problems. He created all kinds of relational messes within his family, and repeatedly placed his wife (and semi-half-sister) Sarah in awkward, even dangerous positions (see Genesis 12:10-20; 16:1-16; 17:1-27; 20:11-18; 21:8-21).

Yet Paul’s example of Abraham is clear: what we need is not so much about us as it is about God. The solution to our problems is less about what can accomplish and more about what must recognize: we cannot do this on our own.

Certainly that became Abraham’s ongoing lesson. Abraham needed God. Gradually taught, slowly freed from his deep inadequacies, with God’s patient assistance Abraham grows up in his faith.

So must we. Here’s how.

Guilt Needs Grace

One of our best definitions of “sin” in the Bible is simply “missing the mark.” Being just a little off center on the target might not be all that bad. But this off-the-mark-ness is less than what God desires for us. Accepting this bad news about me is not a weakness. It just simply is. By acknowledging my incompleteness, my missing the mark, I begin to open my life to a growing strength.

Abraham slowly learned this: how to get un-stuck. Like him, we are freely offered a biblical strategy for liberation. Accepting the truth about my life is not to provoke guilt, but to instill grace. And God’s grace itself becomes highly liberating. Using Abraham as his model, Paul repeats this message throughout Romans.

Wisdom Needs Humility

Usually sly and subtle, sin sometimes becomes even more dangerous in those of us who think we are beyond it. Often believing we are too smart or too sophisticated or too churchgoing to succumb to the vagaries of some ancient concept, we get fooled into thinking we are foolproof.

This, then, becomes a self-fulling prophecy: Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall (Proverbs 16:18). Just when we think we have life figured out; just as we consider ourselves immune from these spiritual downturns, we miss another mark. We sin. We become haughty instead of humble, critical instead of caring, hypocritical instead of real, foolish instead of wise, selfish instead of loving. True biblical wisdom must always be partnered with humility. Otherwise, it cannot be wisdom. For “ALL have sinned …” (Romans 3:23)

Humility Needs Vision

And finally, sometimes we aren’t even aware of how much we are missing, how little we understand, how far we’ve strayed. It’s difficult to know what we don’t know. Too often, our lives drift gradually into unhealthy routines, negative companions, cynical outlooks, and general attitude decay. This can be especially true during a pandemic. How many of us are spending too much time on Netflix? We don’t mean to be hurtful or harmful or neglectful. We might not even be that bad. We just aren’t what we can and should be. We lack a higher vision, we lower our sights, and we stumble instead into the mediocre and miss out on the much better. 

Thankfully, like Abraham, we have equal access to a liberating faith, one that doesn’t stifle or deny, but that grows, sees, evolves and sets us free. Even on those days when, like Abraham, when we aren’t sure what we are doing, or might be clueless about the messes we are making, our baddest news can be still be overcome. Our problems never have the last word. We simply must be aware of this available power and of God’s accessible presence. Our deepest wounds and saddest scars can be healed by the transforming nature of God’s grace. True biblical humility learns to see beyond our less-than-ness ­and envision more clearly a better-than-ness.

Vision Needs Easter

So whether you are weighted down with guilt, or just flitting along unaware of the available goodness slipping past you, we do well to take our bad news seriously. Then, like delicate, emerging blossoms of spring, God’s abundant gift of grace grows within us and around us. This is good news. We, and our world both become more beautiful as a result. And our Lenten journey, envisioning the direction of Easter, becomes all the more necessary – and even more exciting.

With Lenten Hope and Easter Love,

David

In spite of the looming uncertainty we all feel right now: Life goes on. Along with the many needs of our world and God’s countless good creations in it, creation continues.

Let us focus on all that is good and true today. Let us do our best to live into what we know to be most honorable. For we really have no other viable, healthy choice. Following Jesus means living the best we know how in every kind of time, especially in the kinds of time we find ourselves in during this truly strange year of 2020.

Honestly, we have much to accomplish, many who would love to hear from us, some who truly need us, and more than we know who love us dearly and deeply. Opportunities to know and be known still surround us. Life is still exciting. We have so much to read, so much to learn and so many ways to enrich our lives and those around us. So let’s help each other keep on moving, working and growing. I know I need you; and I know we need each other. And if it’s true for us, it is true for many more around us.

Let us not allow each other to give in to discouragement, despair or disparagement of others. That is the easy way out or what Jesus calls the “wide path.” The “narrow way” is harder. It is less traveled and sometimes more treacherous. But it is one that leads to life, truly.  The narrow path lifts up, offers support, works for peace, lives out patience, and continues to stand for justice.

Let us move forward on this journey together, seeking life and goodness, embracing the challenge, and as the Celtic poets, like to say, let us look for “the glory in the grey.” And let’s do it together.

Bless you all and stay in touch!

God of grace and God of glory:
We have understandable hesitations about what might lie ahead in this New Year.
We hear positive indicators; we hope for shared prosperity;
We yearn for unity while we wonder, too
If a common vision for a shared future in our nation is even possible.

And in the meantime …

People are hurting; families are stressed;
Children long to be in school again and parents are so weary;
Hospitals are full; caregivers are exhausted;
Essential workers feel taken for granted
And all of us anxiously await a return to normal.

But even in our anticipations, let us not return only to what was.
Provoke in us instead, O God, with
• The wisdom to be a little better.
• Prod us with just enough discomfort that our souls entice our brains to
o Better service
o Higher stewardship
o Deeper discipleship
o And compassionate grace

For after all, this New Year comes in the thankful aftermath of Christmas.
It therefore offers us this glad reminder:
• That we of all people are the recipients of a most extravagant grace
• We have been and are, the beneficiaries of an indescribably expansive love.

Push us, then, Lord, as we need to be, so that our daily living, at least in some measure, adequately reflects these great gifts you have so abundantly given to every one of us.

Help us remember; lead us to know;
Let us love accordingly,
And therefore live in this New Year … abundantly.

In Jesus’ name and always for his sake, Amen.